The blog of a romance novelist and poet. Semi-nomadic between England and France, a curious curtsey to cuisine and country.

Tuesday, 23 August 2011

Wallflowers.

I spent the afternoon in Saintes and wandered into the park. It is a truly beautiful town (City). Many times I consider the acts and works of mankind as opposed to the "natural" course of Nature. Of course, the last thing you could say of a park is that it is natural. However, flowers bloom and their composition in beds is only an enhancement of them.

Also in the park there is a skateboard area with ramps and slides. Young warriors show their skills and hone their reflexes. At one end of their enclosure is a mural in graffiti style. I tried to work out what it was or what it was saying and I still have no idea. Anyway, the point I am trying to make is that things composed can have meanings and power beyond themselves. A few times in my life I have spoken with poets about their work and told them of unities and patterns I have discerned. Several times they have never seen these undercurrents in their work. So tonight there are a few photos of Saintes in terms of composition and Art. If you get the chance, do come here. It will not disappoint.

Having meandered about in Wordsworthian fashion contemplating Art and Nature it was time to drive home. But I didn't. The car broke down and it was carried away on the back of a lorry. The charming personnel of Praud Depannage got me home. Oh dear - back on me bike.

I didn't quite get the skate park mural and I struggled a bit with the Latin. Perhaps it was all done by the same guy. This place is stuffed with Roman history and stands on the magnificent River Charente. If you don't come here you're missing out.